Let's Kill All the Lawyers
by Vol lady
Summary: Someone is picking off the lawyers in Stockton, one by one. The Barkley brothers try to find out who before Jarrod ends up on his list.
1. Chapter 1

Let's Kill All the Lawyers

Chapter 1

Heath caught the ball as he was crossing the street. Not that he had a lot of choice. It was coming directly at his face, and his reflexes saved him. He caught it in his left hand as he heard the boy running up behind him. He turned fast after he caught the ball.

And it wasn't a boy. It was Turner Powers, a full grown intelligent man who worked for a local ranch, a man who was known to act more like a kid when given the chance. "Aw, sorry, Heath," he said as Heath tossed the ball in the air to himself. "I saw the ball game here in the street and couldn't resist."

Heath laughed. Sometimes Turner's impishness was contagious. Heath turned and threw the ball back to the two genuine kids at the other end of the block, who tussled with each other to grab it. One of them got it and threw it back Heath's and Turner's way.

And for a minute or so Heath forgot his errands in town and played ball, he and Turner on one side and the two kids on the other, just throwing the ball back and forth. Heath and Turner tussled as much as the kids did when trying to catch it, but eventually Heath had to bow out. "Sorry, fellas, this grown-up has work to do."

"Yeah, so do I," Turner said and started off with Heath.

The two kids moaned for about three seconds and then split up so that they could keep playing between the two of them. "We're forgotten already," Heath said.

Turner laughed and walked up onto the boardwalk with Heath. "Where you off to?"

"First the bank, then fetching my brother Jarrod from the train depot," Heath said. "How about you?"

"Dry goods. They're loading up my wagon now, wire and nails," Turner said. "Pretty dull lives we lead, huh?"

Heath chuckled. "It suits me fine. Sometimes it's not as dull as I'd like it to be."

"I reckon we couldn't stand it if it was all one way or the other."

"Well, Nick and I just got back from a long drive, and we ran into a nasty pack of coyote on the way. There's getting to be too many of them down Lathrop way. They're getting too brazen because there's not enough food for all of them. That's excitement I could have done without."

They arrived at the dry goods store and stopped for a moment. "Thought I'd be at Harry's Friday night for some poker. You and Nick coming in?"

"Yeah, we were thinking about it. Reckon we'll see you there."

Heath kept on going as they waved good-bye to each other. The bank was not very far away, and within a few minutes Heath had finished depositing the money from the drive, minus the bonus pay they paid out to their drovers. He heard the train whistle as he came out to the street, so he hurried back to the depot, checking on the horses he had left there before he went up to the platform.

Jarrod had just climbed down out of the family car that the train had left on the siding, and he was making his way across the rails, carrying his briefcase. Jarrod seldom had luggage when he was coming from San Francisco, since he had clothes at his home there, but he always had a briefcase. He had been gone for nearly three months this time, owing to a very big case he'd been working on. Heath could tell it had been a hard job, because Jarrod looked several pounds thinner.

"So, you've been working too hard and not eating enough," was the first thing Heath said as he reached to shake his brother's hand.

Jarrod gave a weary laugh as he shook hands. "Silas will take care of that second little problem for me, and I don't plan to do any work at all for at least two weeks."

"Two weeks? What are you gonna do with yourself?"

They began to walk together toward the street. "Oh," Jarrod said, "read a book or two, take a good long walk or two in the hills – maybe even go skinny-dipping in the creek."

"Whoa!" Heath laughed. "You really are planning to ease up, aren't you?"

"It was a very hard case, Heath."

Heath wondered if he should ask, but he did. "Did you win it?"

"It was something of a draw," Jarrod said. "The jury dismissed the more serious charges but came back guilty on the lesser ones."

"You gonna appeal?"

"No, my client thinks he got lucky, so he'll just take the light sentence he got, do his time, and start over again after he's out in a few months."

They reached the horses. Jarrod fastened his briefcase to the saddle and mounted up.

"You need to go by the office?" Heath asked.

Jarrod shook his head. "Got a wire from my secretary that everything was locked down for me to take a vacation, so I don't need to. Let's go home and let me get some of Silas's good cooking in me. My belt is buckled two inches tighter so my pants don't fall off."

Heath laughed, and they took off together toward home.

XXXXX

Victoria and Audra gave Jarrod a greeting full of hugs and kisses, and Heath took lunch with them before he left to get back to work out in the field with Nick. Jarrod lingered at the table with his mother and sister over coffee, and he kept complimenting Silas over the food.

"Just glad to have you home, Mr. Jarrod," Silas said as he poured more hot coffee.

"Glad to be here," Jarrod said.

Victoria said, "You haven't said much about how your case went."

Jarrod sipped his coffee. "Well, not much to say. Horace was acquitted of the more serious charges but he'll do some jail time on the lesser ones. All in all, he was happy with the result."

"Were you?" Audra asked.

"I'm pretty happy the jury agreed with me where they did, but I know Horace was not guilty of any of those charges, and I wish I could have gotten him acquitted of everything."

"Why isn't he appealing if he was innocent?"

"He's a politician. He doesn't want to keep the case in the public eye. He'll spend a few months in jail on minor charges and everyone will forget about it – or so he hopes."

"Corruption charges are always so controversial," Victoria said. "Sometimes it seems like the court of public opinion tries the case and convicts the defendant before the jury ever gets the case."

"True," Jarrod said unhappily. "What have I missed around here? Anything exciting?"

He knew he was giving his sister an opening to go on and on about things he didn't necessarily care about, but as Audra perked up and started talking, he still smiled. It was good to hear about unimportant trivia – unimportant to him but important to his little sister. Those little matters would drive the big ones out of his head, and he was glad to get rid of them.

XXXXXX

"Saw Turner Powers in town this morning," Heath said to Nick as they paused for a moment in their chore of clearing away some trees that had fallen and taken out a fence.

"What's Turner up to these days?" Nick asked, using his bandana to wipe the sweat from his forehead before he put his hat back on.

"Same old," Heath said. "I expect we'll see him at poker Friday night."

"Maybe we can talk Jarrod into coming in with us, seeing as he's on vacation." Nick sneered a little at the word "vacation." He really didn't believe in them. If Jarrod wasn't doing legal work, he should be out here helping to clear trees.

Heath chuckled, reading Nick's mind. "He'll be out here with us before long, soon as he gets some pounds on him from Silas's cooking. He's skinny as a rail."

"Well, then, soon as he gets some food into him, we'll get him out here with us and put the muscles back on."

Heath laughed again. "Nick, you are one merciless pit boss."

"It's good to be the pit boss," Nick said with a wicked grin.

XXXXXXX

"Poker sounds good," Jarrod agreed when Heath approached the subject while they were having drinks before dinner.

Nick was still upstairs cleaning up, but Victoria and Audra were seated on the settee. Heath and Jarrod remained standing. Heath poured himself some whiskey while Jarrod diddled a little on the piano with one hand, holding his scotch with the other.

"Did Horace remember to pay you before they took him off to jail?" Victoria asked.

"I got paid up front on that one, Mother, every single cent," Jarrod said. Sometimes he would take a case and be paid some up front but wait on the remainder until the case was over. But then, most of his clients were not as wealthy as Horace Kane was. On a case like this, Jarrod often wondered if his fee was being paid out of dirty money, but he honestly believed that Horace was innocent of all the charges and had no dirty money to pay him out of. He frowned, wishing again he had gotten the man off completely.

Victoria saw the frown and figured it was from the Kane case. "I'm sorry I brought it up, Jarrod. You're on vacation now. I won't bring it up again."

Jarrod smiled and wandered back over to his "thinking chair" near the fireplace. He sat.

Heath said, "Nick is planning for you to work with us a bit and build those muscles back up."

"You are very thin," Audra said.

"Don't worry, a couple weeks of Silas's cooking and I'll be portly," Jarrod said.

"Then we'll work it off of you," Nick said as he came in, finally cleaned up and freshly shaved. He headed for the refreshment table and poured himself some whiskey. "I got a working vacation planned for you, Big Brother."

"Maybe some," Jarrod said. "I plan to play the next two weeks by ear, and then I'll have to get back to my office in Stockton. A lawyer's work is never done."

"That's 'a woman's work'," Audra said.

"It applies to lawyers, too," Jarrod said.

"You wanted to be a lawyer," Victoria reminded him.

Jarrod smiled. "I have no complaints, Mother. You had a good idea when you sent me to law school. And I had a good idea when I agreed to go."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

After a few days of relaxation and doing nothing, Jarrod was happy to join his brothers at a poker table at Harry's saloon on a Friday night. Turner Powers was there, too, and for the first hour at least, he was the one cleaning up. Nick took a break and carried himself to the bar to talk to Harry. He hadn't seen his old friend, the owner-bartender, in quite some time, since he and Heath had just gotten back from a drive. Harry was always up on the local news, even more so than the newspaper was.

"So, what have I missed around here, Harry?" Nick asked straight out.

"Oh, a bit of excitement here and there," Harry said. "Phil Archer got himself shot."

"What?" Nick asked, straightening up and glancing at Jarrod, still at the poker table. "When the heck did this happen?"

"Night before last," Harry said. "He's still at the doc's, as far as I know. Pretty serious chest wound."

"Who did it?"

"Nobody knows. They found him in the alley behind the courthouse late Wednesday night. Last I heard he was awake, but never saw who attacked him. The sheriff is trying to figure things out, but he doesn't even have any leads yet. I'm surprised you didn't know all about it already."

"None of us has been in town," Nick said. "Jarrod's gonna be in for a shock."

"Yeah, he's gonna wanna talk to Fred Madden, I'm sure," Harry said.

"I wouldn't say Archer's a friend, but he and Jarrod go way back and I know Jarrod doesn't wish anything bad on him. Give me another beer, will you, Harry? And a scotch for my big brother."

Harry poured both and set them up on the bar. Nick carried them over to the poker table and set the glass of scotch down heavily in front of Jarrod, who was just about to fold his hand. Jarrod was distracted by the delivery of the drink for just a moment but then laid his cards face down, saying, "Fold. What is this for?" he asked Nick.

Nick sat down again. "You're gonna need it. Harry just told me that Phil Archer was shot Wednesday night."

"What?" Jarrod asked.

Heath looked up, too, even though he was still in the hand. He called the bet one of the other players made.

"How bad?" Jarrod asked, genuinely concerned.

"Bad enough," Nick said. "Harry says he's still in the doc's office. I haven't seen Fred Madden around, but if he comes in, I think we'll want to find out what's going on."

Turner Powers, who had just folded, said, "I heard about that, too. The way I heard it, somebody just shot him and ran and nobody knows who did it or why."

"That's what Harry said," Nick said.

Heath took the pot, and because it was now his deal, he took the cards, too. "Is he gonna be all right?" Heath asked and began to shuffle the cards.

"Don't know," Turner said.

Heath said, "Seven card stud. Are you back in, Nick?"

"Yeah," Nick said.

"I'm out," Jarrod said, and he got up as Heath began to deal. He went over to see Harry himself, carrying his scotch with him. "Harry, Nick just told me about Phil Archer. Have you heard how he's doing?"

"He's awake, that's all I know," Harry said.

Because he'd been away from Stockton for so long, Jarrod didn't even know what cases Archer might have been working on. "Phil is a man who makes a lot of other men mad, but I can't imagine who would want to kill him," Jarrod said, trying to think of who it might have been.

"Somebody he prosecuted, I guess," Harry said.

"I think I'll try to see him tomorrow," Jarrod said.

"Careful," Harry warned. "You might find yourself roped into taking over his cases."

"That's not likely," Jarrod said, but half wondered if Harry might be right. It seemed like the District Attorney and the county councilmen tended to come to him first when something happened to keep a prosecutor from doing his job. "Anything else going on around here I oughtta know about, Harry? I've been gone for three months."

"It's been fairly quiet except for that," Harry said and poured a beer for another customer. Then Harry looked up at the door. "Here comes the sheriff. You might ask him about Archer."

When Sheriff Madden spotted Jarrod, he came right over. "Jarrod, it's good to see you again," he said.

"You, too, Fred," Jarrod said. "What's this I hear about Phil Archer?"

Sheriff Madden sighed. "He got himself shot the other night. He never saw who did it, and I don't even have any leads yet. We might never find this one."

"Have you talked to some of the men he's prosecuted lately?" Jarrod asked.

"Yeah, but none seems too likely," the sheriff said. "Most got off with light fines. One served his sentence in my jail and he's gone home and had an alibi. Archer only had two serious charges – bad assaults – but they're both off to prison."

"Relatives, maybe?"

"Maybe, but so far I can't place any of these people anywhere but their own comfortable homes at the time it happened – that or jail. It's a real puzzler, Jarrod. I'd appreciate any light you can shed on it. You know Archer as well as anyone. Is there anybody you think might have a grudge?"

Jarrod shook his head. "Nobody I can think of off-hand. I think I'll go see Phil tomorrow. Maybe he'll be up to talking with me a bit – assuming, of course, he's willing to."

"You two have never settled your differences, have you?"

Jarrod raised an eyebrow. "Don't go thinking I shot him, Fred. We don't see eye to eye on much, but I'd never hurt the man. He hurts himself enough."

"I know better than to think you did it, Jarrod. I'm just not sure he'd open up to you much, but then he probably isn't all that interested in opening up to anybody about anything."

"Well, I'll look in on him anyway, and see if he can shed any light at all on this."

"Sam Davison knows you're back in town, Jarrod. He might try to get you to take Phil's caseload until he's back on his feet."

Davison was the current District Attorney. Jarrod smiled. "That's what Harry said, but I don't think that will happen."

"Well, then, maybe I'll rope you into helping me figure out who shot Archer. Any chance?"

Jarrod opened his mouth, smiling more, but wasn't sure how to say what he really wanted to say. "Let's talk about that after I talk to Phil," he finally came up with. "I'll see him in the morning."

Jarrod went back to the poker table then and took his seat back in time to be dealt in for the next hand. Heath asked, "Did the sheriff have anything more about Phil Archer?"

"No," Jarrod said. "I'll go see Phil in the morning and see how he is."

"Better look out," Nick said as he dealt. "Somebody's gonna want to rope you into taking Archer's caseload."

Nick was the third one to suggest that. Jarrod figured now he was doomed. "Thanks a bunch, Nick," Jarrod said.

"Anytime, Big Brother," Nick said. "Anytime."

XXXXXXX

Victoria Barkley was astonished to hear the news at the breakfast table the next morning. "Phil Archer shot? Why didn't we hear anything about that?"

"Nobody went into town on Thursday," Nick said.

"I'll go see him this morning," Jarrod said. "So far, Fred Madden doesn't have any suspects at all. Archer didn't see who shot him. I'll talk to Phil about some of the cases he's been handling. Maybe we can figure something out."

"If he'll talk to you," Victoria said. "You're not his favorite man in the world."

"I can only try," Jarrod said.

"Don't get talked into taking on his caseload," Audra warned.

"That makes four," Jarrod said, a little bemused.

"Four what?"

"People who have warned me about being approached to take over Archer's caseload," Jarrod said.

"You do need a break," Victoria said. "You had a long hard trial in San Francisco."

"I know," Jarrod said. "Don't worry. It'll take some mighty fancy talking to get me to take Archer's job until he's well enough to take it back."

"Remember you promised to help us out in the field," Nick said.

"I never made any such promise," Jarrod protested.

"Yes, you did," Nick said. "Heath heard it too, didn't you, Heath?"

"I did," Heath said. "Objection overruled."

Jarrod grumbled. "Maybe I will take over Archer's cases."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dr. Merar let Jarrod into the room where Phil Archer was resting. Archer was lying back against a couple pillows, wide awake but doing nothing other than staring at the ceiling. His gaze shifted when he heard the door open, and he stared at Jarrod with no change of expression at all.

"Phil," Jarrod said as he came closer. "How are you feeling?"

"Just wonderful," Archer said. "I thought you were in San Francisco."

"Got back the other day," Jarrod said. "I heard about your problem last night. You have no idea who did it, huh?"

"I never saw him," Archer said. "I'm surprised he didn't finish me off, but he just ran when somebody heard the shot and started yelling."

"I'm awfully sorry you're laid up, but I'm glad you survived the attack."

"Thanks," Archer said.

Jarrod sat down in a nearby chair. "I'd like to try to help find out who did this to you. Have you tried any defendants lately who were particularly troublesome?"

"No more than usual, and nobody I put in prison got out recently, either," Archer said.

"You think it might not be work related?"

"I don't know. If somebody's holding a personal grudge, I don't know who it is or why. I've been over all this with the sheriff and with Davison, Jarrod. The best we can come up with is it's somebody who doesn't like lawyers in general."

"Well, that's half the county, isn't it?" Jarrod said. "They don't see us unless there's trouble."

"Look, Jarrod, I know you want to help, but I'm tired and sore and I've gone over all this with the sheriff."

Jarrod got the message and got up. "I understand, Phil. You just get well."

"Look, if they ask you to take over my cases, it's all right with me," Archer said. "I don't know when I'll be getting back to work."

"Do you have your private cases covered?"

"I don't have any at the moment."

Jarrod nodded and said, "Take it easy, Phil. I'll talk to Davison and see what he wants to do."

Jarrod left then, closing the door behind him. He found Dr. Merar in his office, behind his desk. The doctor looked up when he heard Jarrod come in. "Mr. Archer doesn't have much to say, does he?"

"He doesn't even when he's feeling well," Jarrod said. "How's he doing, anyway? Is he gonna be all right?"

"I think so but it'll be a while before I can send him home. He's on his own out there. The wound is painful but it's all muscle damage. He got lucky."

"Have you got any idea who might have done this to him?"

"I wish I did. I've heard the sheriff is beginning to think it's someone with a grudge against lawyers in general. You'd better keep your own eyes open."

"I always do, Doc. You take care of yourself, too. If we're about to have a run of attacks on lawyers, we're gonna need your services."

"Not a happy thought, Jarrod, but I'll be ready."

Jarrod said good-bye and headed out. It being Saturday, the District Attorney would not be in his office. Jarrod headed for the sheriff's office, but didn't find him in. After that, he decided to go to Harry's saloon for a cup of coffee.

Harry had just opened up and was finishing getting the bar ready for the day when Jarrod came in. "Back again already?" Harry said.

"I went to see Phil Archer," Jarrod said. "Got any coffee ready?"

Harry poured him a cup and set it on the bar in front of him. "How's he doing?"

"Not bad, all things considered," Jarrod said. Then he looked quizzical. "Harry, have you caught anybody saying anything about lawyers in general lately?"

"Lawyers aren't a big topic of conversation around here," Harry said. "Why? Is that what they're thinking? Somebody doesn't like lawyers enough to start shooting them?"

"It's one of the things to think about." Jarrod sipped his coffee. "If lawyers start dropping, I guess we'll have to take the idea seriously."

"You better start taking it seriously now," Harry said. "You are a pretty prominent lawyer, after all."

"I'll keep my eyes open and my head down," Jarrod said.

When he finished his coffee and left the saloon, Jarrod spotted Sheriff Madden coming toward him down the street. The sheriff didn't look happy. "You all right, Jarrod?" the sheriff asked.

"Me? I'm fine, why?" Jarrod asked.

"I was just down by the waterfront, behind that place that used to be Barbary Red's," Sheriff Madden said. "One of the girls there found Tom Kemper in the back alley – shot dead."

Jarrod nearly reeled. Tom Kemper was a fairly new attorney in town, a young man just starting on his own practice. Jarrod didn't know what to say. What came tumbling out was, "Who? Were there any witnesses?"

"No. It's the same as Archer, only this time we have a body."

Jarrod frowned and shook his head slowly. "Do you know if Archer and Kemper had any case in common, maybe Kemper defended somebody Archer prosecuted?"

"I was gonna head over to Sam Davison's house to talk to him."

"Let him know I'll take Archer's cases if he wants me to. I'll go back and talk to Phil, see if he can tell me anything."

"Did you see him earlier? Did he have anything to say?"

"Nothing helpful. Kemper doesn't have any family around. They're all back in Pennsylvania, as I recall."

"I'm gonna search his place, too, see if I can find where they are, maybe find something about why he was killed, I don't know. Jarrod – "

Jarrod looked at him.

"You watch out for yourself," Sheriff Madden said. "I don't want to find you in some alley around here."

"Don't worry, I'll be careful," Jarrod said. "I'll go talk to Phil and meet you back at your office later."

"All right."

They parted company then, and Jarrod hustled back over to the doctor's office. Dr. Merar was coming out as Jarrod was going in. "Jarrod, I have to go, we have another shooting," Dr. Merar said.

"I know, Fred told me," Jarrod said. "Tom Kemper, but Fred said he's dead."

"I'll need to see him anyway."

"I need to see Archer again," Jarrod said.

"Iva's around. Just have her lock up after you leave."

Dr. Merar hurried down the street as Jarrod went into his office. He went straight to Archer's room, knocked softly, and then let himself in.

Archer looked up at him. "What do you want?"

Jarrod came closer to Archer's bed. "They just found Tom Kemper shot dead near the waterfront. Phil, did you have any case at all with him recently? Criminal or civil?"

Archer tried to think. "No, nothing."

"Can you think of any connection Kemper had with you?" Jarrod asked.

Archer shook his head, beginning to look frightened now. "Nothing, not a thing."

Jarrod said, "Dr. Merar's gone down to the waterfront. I'll let Mrs. Merar know what's going on. You don't move a muscle from here until the sheriff tells you it's all right, got it?"

Archer didn't like being bossed by Jarrod Barkley, but he was scared enough that he just nodded.

Jarrod left, found Mrs. Merar and told her what was happening. She locked the office up tight after Jarrod went out, but just to be sure, she parked herself in the waiting area with a rifle and planned to stay there until her husband came back.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Jarrod came home late, knowing full well that being out on the street in Stockton at night was becoming risky for a lawyer, but he had ended up doing more things than he planned. He looked haggard and felt worse.

"Not a good day, I take it," his mother said when he came in the door, long after everyone had finished dinner.

He hung his hat and gun belt up with a sigh and came into the living room, where he poured himself a brandy. "Some things have happened in town," he said. On the way home, he wondered how to tell them what was going on – he didn't want them to worry. But he couldn't keep what was happening a secret. It wouldn't last until Sunday afternoon anyway. It would be the talk of the church, and definitely the subject of prayers.

"What things?" Nick asked.

"I talked to Phil Archer. He's coming along, but he had no idea who might have shot him," Jarrod said. "From there I got a cup of coffee, but I ran into Sheriff Madden on the street. They found Tom Kemper dead in an alley on the waterfront."

Everyone straightened, alarmed. "Tom Kemper?" Victoria asked.

Jarrod nodded. "I talked to Archer again but he hasn't had any cases lately with Kemper. After that, I arranged for Kemper's funeral – he has no family around here. I ran into a couple of other lawyers in town and while we drank and played cards, we talked about what was going on and whether there was actually someone who was after all of us. I ran into Sam Davison late in the afternoon and talked to him. I talked to the sheriff again – "

"We get the picture, Jarrod," Nick said. "But back up. Somebody is after all of you?"

"We haven't been able to connect Phil Archer and Tom Kemper in any way," Jarrod said. "The sheriff believes that somebody seems to have it in for lawyers in general."

"What are you gonna do about it, Jarrod?" Heath asked.

"You've got to do something to protect yourselves," Audra said.

Jarrod said, "We've lost a very promising young lawyer, and he's lost a very promising young life. But we can't all hire bodyguards, and we can't go around keeping each other safe. We have to be in too many diverse places at a time."

Nick and Heath were looking at each other, and Jarrod could see the wheels turning.

"You're taking Archer's cases," Nick said, still looking at Heath.

Jarrod sipped his brandy. "Yes, I am. I'll go into the office Monday morning to get myself acquainted with what he's doing."

"Then you ought to have one of us with you," Nick said.

Jarrod said, "No, Nick, I don't think there's much of a risk in the daylight."

"Then you had no business staying out so late tonight," Victoria said.

"I'm sorry," Jarrod said. "Time just got away from me, and Fred was with me a lot anyway."

"Nevertheless, you need to be very careful," Victoria said.

"Especially since I'll bet Fred has no suspects at all," Nick said.

"That's right, he doesn't," Jarrod said. "I'll be as careful as I can be."

"Have you eaten?" Victoria asked.

Jarrod nodded. "And I'm pretty tired, so if you'll excuse me." He finished his brandy and kissed his mother and sister. "I'll see you in the morning."

As Jarrod trudged up the stairs, Nick and Heath stared at each other. The message was unspoken, but clear. Jarrod might be in danger, and he wasn't going to let anyone be with him to protect him. Nothing new. That was his initial reaction whenever he was threatened, but it was almost never a wise one.

Victoria read their expressions. "He won't let you go to the office with him. There are just too many things he does that are confidential."

"We'll talk to him in the morning," Nick said.

Victoria gave a heavy sigh and got up, approaching Nick and Heath. "You can talk to him until you're blue in the face, but you know as well as I do, he won't let either one of you be his shadow all day. Forewarned is forearmed, and he and every other lawyer in town is forewarned now. That's how he's looking at it."

"You'd have to watch him on the sly," Audra said, "and that never works out very well either."

Nick and Heath looked at each other again. Heath said, "It's pretty risky to be a lawyer in Stockton right now, Mother, riskier than usual. He let us keep an eye on him when Joshua Cunningham was after him."

"In his office, when the threat was known – and that didn't work out very well either, did it?" Victoria asked. "In the end, Jarrod protected himself from Joshua Cunningham. I hate to say it but if he wants to look after himself now, you'd better let him."

Audra got up and stood beside her mother. "The lawyers in town are probably going to be looking out for each other now, even if they're not following each other around."

"And as Jarrod said, there's probably not much risk in the daylight," Victoria said.

Nick and Heath looked at each other again, surprised at their mother's reaction to this. Nick said, "I'd be a lot less concerned if he wasn't out alone after dark."

"Then tell him that, and he'll probably agree with you," Victoria said.

The next morning at breakfast, when Nick did tell Jarrod that, Jarrod did agree with him. "I have every intention of either being in before dark or being with company after dark," Jarrod said. "And today, it's a moot point. It's Sunday. We'll go to church, come home, and I will continue my vacation. Work starts up again tomorrow, and I will be very careful."

Nick and Heath both gave him a nod.

XXXXXXX

As expected, the church services were full of prayers for the murdered lawyer and Phil Archer. The minister announced that services for Tom Kemper would be on Monday afternoon and asked that as many as possible attend. He also announced that he had visited Phil Archer and the doctor was looking for someone to take him in while he recuperated. The Barkleys started looking at one another, and Victoria quietly said to her family, "We should do it. He'll be safer out at the ranch."

"If he can be moved that far, and if he wants to come with us," Jarrod said. "I'll talk to him and Dr. Merar after services."

As the Barkleys said good-bye to the minister, Victoria told him that Jarrod would be talking to the doctor about bringing Archer home. Jarrod immediately headed up the street toward Dr. Merar's office, leaving his horse hitched near the church. Nick and Heath had also come into town on horseback while Victoria and Audra came by buggy. Heath helped his mother and sister into the buggy and was heading for his own horse when he caught sight of Turner Powers, riding toward them. Turner was in church clothes and attended the local Catholic church. Heath figured he was heading home.

"How you doing, Turner?" Heath called as he mounted up.

Turner pulled up beside him. "A little worried about these shootings, the lawyers. Do you boys have some protection for Jarrod?"

"No, he's planning on taking care of himself and avoiding trouble spots and times," Heath said.

"That's him walking down the street, isn't it?"

"He's going by the doctor's office to see about Phil Archer."

"Yeah, our priest mentioned the doc is looking for somebody to take Archer in. Would that be the Barkleys?"

"Depends on what Archer wants," Nick, coming up on his own horse, joined into the conversation. "How are you, Turner?"

"Pretty good after all that money I won Friday night," Turner said. "Can I fleece you again this Friday?"

Nick chuckled. "Maybe we'll see who fleeces who."

Turner gave a wave and rode off toward the ranch he worked at. Heath was ready to catch up with the buggy, but Nick hesitated, watching Turner. "What?" Heath asked.

"Turner seemed kind of interested in where Jarrod was gonna be and who was protecting him," Nick said, suspicious.

Heath got the message. "Turner ain't the one shooting the lawyers."

"Are you sure?"

"He doesn't have anything to do with lawyers, and he wouldn't hurt a flea."

"Are you sure?" Nick asked again.

"Well, what do you want to do? Hang around here until Jarrod is ready to come home? Follow Turner around to see if he's gonna try to shoot somebody?"

Nick spotted the buggy waiting for them further up the street. He thought quickly about it. "No. You're right. Turner's not the type, and Jarrod can probably take care of himself in the daylight."

"Let's go then," Heath said, and they took off to catch up with their mother and sister.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Neither Dr. Merar nor his wife had come to church, and Jarrod was a little concerned that something might have happened with Archer, but when he reached the doctor's office, he found the sheriff there. Jarrod hadn't realized Sheriff Madden hadn't come to church either until then. Jarrod immediately felt a bad itch.

"What's happened?" he asked even before saying hello.

"Joe Tiebolt," Sheriff Madden said. "Somebody found him about sunup, near his house."

"He's alive," Dr. Merar said quickly, "but not conscious. A bullet wound to the chest, like Mr. Archer."

Tiebolt was another lawyer who lived in town, in a flat not far from the courthouse. Jarrod almost moaned. "Is he going to be all right?"

"It's still too early to tell," Dr. Merar said.

"It looks like the same thing, shoot and run, sometime overnight," the sheriff said.

"But no one heard a shot?" Jarrod asked.

"It looks like it might have happened while the saloons were in full swing," Dr. Merar said. "Too much noise, or people who heard it just didn't get upset over a gunshot on a Saturday night."

"You know, we're starting to see a pattern here," Sheriff Madden said. "Three lawyers, all unmarried and living alone in or close to town. The shooter hits and runs and doesn't even check to be sure he killed his victim."

"What kind of bullet?" Jarrod asked.

"Forty-four," Dr. Merar said. "All three of them."

Jarrod gave a heavy sigh. "I came to see if I could take Phil Archer home with me."

Dr. Merar shook his head. "You can ask, but he seems determined to go home to his own place."

"And you two aren't the best of friends," Sheriff Madden said. "I doubt he'd want to go with you."

"It can't hurt to ask, can it?" Jarrod said.

Dr. Merar shrugged. "Go ahead."

"Does he know about Tiebolt?" Jarrod asked as he headed for the room where Archer had been since being shot.

"No," Dr. Merar said. "Tell him if you want to. He might be more amenable to going home with you if he hears about Tiebolt."

Jarrod nodded and kept on going toward Archer's room. He knocked softly at the door and heard Archer telling him to come in, so he entered. Archer was sitting up in bed, reading a book. As usual, he had no smile for Jarrod and no greeting. He didn't even close his book.

"How are you, Phil?" Jarrod asked.

"Better," Archer said.

"The minister in church said the doctor was trying to find somebody to take you in while you recover," Jarrod said.

"I don't need anyone," Archer said. "As soon as Dr. Merar lets me go, I plan to go to my own home."

"We thought you'd say that. There's something you should know, though. Joe Tiebolt is in the room next to you."

Archer looked surprised. "Tiebolt?"

"Found this morning, shot in the chest, just like you."

Archer swallowed. "Did he see who did it?"

"He's not conscious yet. Look, Phil, I know you have no love for the Barkleys, but we want you to come out to the ranch and recuperate there, at least until we find out who's trying to kill lawyers. You're in danger if you go home alone."

"And you're walking around alone like you're not," Archer said.

"Every shooting's been in the dark so far. It's daytime."

Archer hesitated, looking around. Jarrod figured he was weighing his options – go home with a family he loathed for reasons of his own, or stay here in the closest thing Stockton had for a hospital except for the state insane asylum.

Jarrod decided to push things. "It's up to you, Phil," he said and started to leave. "The offer's open. Just let us know if you decide to take us up on it."

Jarrod half expected Archer wouldn't let him get out the door, but Archer said nothing as Jarrod went out and closed the door behind him. Wondering again why Archer hated him and his family so much, Jarrod went back out to the waiting room, where Dr. Merar and the sheriff were still talking. They stopped and looked up at him. Jarrod just shook his head.

"Let us know if he changes his mind, Doc," Jarrod said.

"Tom!" Mrs. Merar's voice suddenly came from the other recovery room.

Dr. Merar hurried to that room, while Jarrod and Sheriff Madden stood looking at each other. They were afraid of what was going on in there, even more afraid of saying anything about it. They stood silently for several minutes before Dr. Merar came back out.

The doctor looked very tired. "Mr. Tiebolt just died," he said.

The sheriff sighed. "I'll send the undertaker over."

Jarrod turned and went back to Archer's room, entering without even knocking. Archer looked up at him again. Jarrod leveled a hard gaze at him. "Joe Tiebolt just died," Jarrod said.

Archer squirmed.

Jarrod said, "Do you want to change your mind?"

XXXXXXXX

Jarrod took Archer to the Barkley home in a rented buggy, trailing his own horse behind. There were no incidents on the way, except that the bumping around gave Archer some discomfort, but he was all right when Jarrod pulled up to the house. Having heard him arrive, Nick and Heath came to the door. Somewhat surprised to see that Archer had accepted their invitation, they helped Jarrod get Archer out of the buggy.

"Get someone to take this buggy back to town, Ciego," Jarrod said to the stableman as Ciego took charge of the buggy and Jarrod's horse.

Nick and Heath helped Archer inside the house, where Victoria and Audra met them in the foyer. "I'm glad you decided to come, Mr. Archer," Victoria said.

"Phil, please," Archer said. He was looking a bit green and a lot uncomfortable.

"Let's get you upstairs and settled," Heath said.

Nick and Heath helped Archer up the stairs, and Victoria and Audra followed along. Jarrod stayed in the foyer and watched them go. When they were out of sight, he went to the refreshment table in the living room and poured himself a drink before he settled into a chair by the fireplace.

He began to think – about Archer, about Tiebolt and Kemper, about what was going on in town and what he could do about it. He thought about the pattern the sheriff had seen – single men living alone, lawyers, shot in the chest after dark by someone who didn't even stay long enough to be sure they were dead. Tiebolt and Kemper were dead. Archer was the only survivor so far – the only witness, but he didn't see anyone. Jarrod wondered if the shooter knew that.

Jarrod tried to think beyond the facts that were known. Having been in San Francisco so long, he was having trouble. There were probably a lot of men new to Stockton that Jarrod had never seen, much less met. Because this was happening so suddenly and so fast, Jarrod figured it was either someone new in town, or someone new to legal problems, who was behind this. He decided that when he went to take over Archer's cases the next morning, the first thing he would do is review them with the thought in mind that the shooter was in there somewhere.

He didn't know how long it was before he heard his mother and sister come back down the stairs. He heard Audra say something about getting Archer something to eat and realized he hadn't eaten either. Before he could get up, his mother was beside him, rubbing his shoulder, asking, "Have you eaten?"

Jarrod stood up, putting his glass on the coffee table in front of him. "No, I didn't think of it."

Victoria took him by the arm and began to lead him to the kitchen. "Come."

"Wait just a moment, Mother," Jarrod said, and she stopped. "There's been another killing. Joe Tiebolt."

Victoria slumped, saying, "Oh – "

"That's the only reason Archer agreed to come here," Jarrod said. "Don't expect an easy-going patient out of him."

"I wouldn't be easy-going either, under the circumstances," Victoria said. "Were there any witnesses this time?"

Jarrod shook his head. "Same pattern. They found Joe alone, near his house. He was alive when they found him but he died while I was at the doctor's office, without regaining consciousness. This makes three attorneys, single men living alone, shot in the chest after dark with no witnesses."

"And you're still going into town in the morning to take over Archer's cases."

Jarrod nodded. "I need to more than ever. The killer might be in one of those files."

Victoria looked uncomfortably at him.

He read her mind. "I still don't want a bodyguard. I'll be very careful, and I'll be home before dark. Besides, I don't fit the profile. I don't live alone."

Victoria smiled and squeezed his arm. She wasn't entirely sure that the shooter would stick to shooting the same kinds of men, but she knew arguing with Jarrod with pointless today. "Come eat something," she said, and he went with her into the kitchen.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Jarrod went into town alone the next morning, straight to the courthouse where he touched base with Sam Davison. Davison was visibly shaken about everything that was happening, but glad to hear that Archer had been taken to the Barkley home and was out of the line of fire. Jarrod explained the sheriff's thinking on the pattern that was developing.

"We both know that killers don't necessarily stick to the pattern we come up with for them," Davison said.

Jarrod nodded. "You need to keep an eye out, Sam, and don't be out alone after dark."

"My wife and kids keep me in after dark," Sam said and handed Jarrod the keys to Archer's office. "I think you should work from here, not your own office. I want to keep Archer's files here."

"I assume he wasn't working on anything that involved any of my clients," Jarrod said.

"Not that I know of, but you've been out of town so long, I've forgotten who your clients are."

Jarrod smiled. "There's nothing active. I was planning on a vacation until this all came up."

"I appreciate you taking these things over. Any idea when Phil will be back to work?"

Jarrod shook his head. "Dr. Merar hasn't said anything yet, and Phil is still mostly bedridden, so I don't think it will be anytime soon."

Davison sighed. "I'll get you on the payroll for the next two weeks and we'll revisit things then."

Jarrod nodded and left, heading for Archer's office. Archer shared a secretary with the other Assistant District Attorney, Mark Schenk. The secretary was a woman Jarrod knew in passing from his other dealings with this office. She gave him a smile when he came in. "Mr. Davison said you'd be taking over Mr. Archer's cases, Mr. Barkley," Maddy said. "I've put the ones coming up for disposition over the next two weeks on his desk. How is Mr. Archer?"

"Recuperating at my house," Jarrod said. "My mother and sister will spoil him."

"I'm not sure how Mr. Archer will take that."

"Me, either," Jarrod said and went toward Archer's private office before he stopped and turned. "Oh, Maddy, is Mark in?"

She shook her head. "He's running down some witnesses in one of his cases. I don't expect him in today."

Jarrod nodded. Mark Schenk was single and lived alone, so Jarrod worried, but if he was out working, Jarrod relaxed a little bit. At least he wasn't lying dead somewhere. "And Maddy," Jarrod said, "Tom Kemper's funeral is this afternoon. I plan to go, and if you can spread the word and see if anyone else can come, I'd appreciate it."

Maddy nodded.

Jarrod went into Archer's office. The place was spare, as Jarrod remembered. No artwork, minimal furniture, no photographs of anyone on the desk. What a sad life Phil Archer led, Jarrod thought for the hundredth time.

He started going through the files, but he wasn't finding anything unusual there. Archer's caseload for the next couple weeks was as mundane as mundane could get – thefts, bar fights, property damage disputes. There was a trial set for tomorrow; Jarrod put that file aside and planned to work harder on it as soon as he scanned the others. Nothing he was seeing in any of the files was worth killing anyone over, at least to his mind.

It didn't take long to review, so Jarrod asked Maddy for the files on the cases Archer recently had. He was pretty certain he wasn't going to find anything there either. Why would anyone shoot Kemper and Tiebolt over some case of Archer's? They wouldn't.

Lunchtime rolled around. Jarrod left, saying he was going to the funeral after lunch, and after a sandwich and coffee at the Stockton House, he headed for the cemetery at the Protestant church. He was heartened to see quite a few people gathering already – and he saw his entire family. He smiled at them, came over and kissed his mother and sister. "Thanks for coming," he said, "but who's watching Archer?"

"Silas, Ciego and three other hands," Nick said. "He's not even ready to get out of bed."

"Sleeps a lot," Heath said. "He won't be up and around for a few more days."

"And yet he thought he could go home and take care of himself," Jarrod said.

"Jarrod, do you think there's a chance the killer is here?" Audra asked.

"Yes," Jarrod said, looking around and noticing the sheriff was walking in from the street. The sheriff stayed to the rear of the crowd, but nodded to Jarrod when he saw the attorney looking his way.

It was only a minute or two later that the minister arrived and began the service. Jarrod looked around, scanning each face while the minister read from the Bible and spoke kind words about Tom Kemper. He was a fine young man who didn't deserve what happened to him. Jarrod had to agree. Jarrod caught the eye of the undertaker and nodded to him, letting him know he'd want to see him after the service. If Joe Tiebolt had no one to make arrangements for him, Jarrod wanted to do it. The undertaker nodded back, understanding.

Before long, it was over and people began to disperse. "What time do you plan to be home?" Victoria asked Jarrod.

"Five or so," Jarrod said. "Don't worry about me unless I'm not home by dark, but I will be."

"Watch yourself," Nick said.

Jarrod nodded as his family left and the sheriff came over. Sheriff Madden greeted each of the Barkleys, tipping his hat, and then approached Jarrod. "I've been thinking," the sheriff said.

"About anything in particular?" Jarrod asked.

"We identified a pattern – the victims being single lawyers who lived alone," Sheriff Madden said.

"I think I see where you're going," Jarrod asked. "I thought about it too. We only have one more single lawyer who lives alone."

"Mark Schenk," Sheriff Madden said. "And he wasn't here."

"Maddy said Mark was out running down witnesses in one of his cases today," Jarrod said, "but it probably won't hurt you to run by his house later, maybe just before dark, to make sure he's home all right."

"I was planning to," the sheriff said.

The undertaker joined them, asking, "Do you want to talk to me, Jarrod?"

"Joe Tiebolt," Jarrod said. "Does he have any way of paying for a funeral?"

"Not that I've heard," the undertaker said. "I was going to give him the basic."

A pine box and a spot way in the back of the town cemetery. "Do something like you did for Tom," Jarrod said, nodding toward the grave. "I'll take care of it."

The undertaker nodded and said, "I hope you don't go broke this way, Jarrod," as he walked away.

"There's one thing you may not have thought about, Jarrod," Sheriff Madden said.

"What's that?" Jarrod asked.

" _You're_ a single lawyer."

"I don't live alone."

"Do you expect this guy to just stop because he runs out of single lawyers who live alone?" the sheriff asked.

"I had thought about that," Jarrod said, "so you won't see me out and about alone after dark. At least, that's what I've promised my family."

"Keep that promise, Jarrod," the sheriff said and gave him a hard look. "But remember something else – nobody said he was going to stick to doing his shooting in the dark, either."

Jarrod nodded. "I know, Fred. You'll let me know if I can help you with this in any way, won't you?"

Sheriff Madden nodded. "Right now, I don't know how you could help, except by not getting killed, and spreading the word around to your fellow lawyers."

"The word has already spread," Jarrod said. "In a lot of ways, this is still a pretty small town."

Jarrod headed back to Archer's office in the courthouse. He fetched himself a cup of coffee and settled down behind Archer's desk with the file for the case scheduled for the next day. It was about an assault in the street after a bar fight. The accused had used brass knuckles, broken a man's cheekbone and took out three teeth. The accused was still in jail. For the next hour, Jarrod reviewed the file very carefully, planned how he would question each witness, and tried to find anything there that would get Archer killed. There was nothing.

Four o'clock rolled around. Jarrod closed the file and headed out so he could keep his promise to be home by five. "You look out for yourself, Mr. Barkley," was the last thing Maddy said as Jarrod headed out the door.

"I will," was the last thing Jarrod said as he closed the door behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Jarrod went to the livery where he had left his horse. The man who usually attended the place was not there, so Jarrod went in and began to saddle his horse himself, not giving any more thought to the missing attendant. It was not unusual for the man to be gone for a few minutes at a time. Jarrod didn't think there was anything to worry about.

Until he heard a noise up in the loft above him. He moved quietly out of the stall he was in, drawing his gun slowly and carefully, looking up, listening. He stopped a step or two out from under the loft, still looking up and around. Still listening.

Suddenly someone was running across the loft above him. Jarrod spun around, following the sound with his eyes, looking. "Stop!" he yelled.

He heard a stumbling noise, and then a funny sound like someone had burst through the doors up there that led out onto the street. Jarrod ran out to the street, looking – but everything looked normal. People were moving around as if nothing had happened. If someone had just jumped down out of the upper doors of the livery stable, things would not look like this.

Jarrod hurried back into the livery stable, looking and listening. Whoever was up there had decoyed him by making the noise near the doors. Where was he now? Jarrod stood still, holding his gun pointed and ready, listening.

But there was no more sound. Whoever it was, he was either keeping perfectly still, or he had gotten out and away through the back while Jarrod was out on the street. Jarrod puzzled what to do for a moment. If he went for help, whoever was up there – if anyone was - would be long gone by the time he got back.

Jarrod decided to risk it.

Even as he climbed the ladder up to the loft, he knew he was being foolhardy. If someone was up there – if it was the killer stalking him – he'd be watching, and he'd have Jarrod nailed the moment he left the ladder and came into the loft. Jarrod took it very slowly, especially as he began to get above loft level. He stopped with just his eyes above the loft. He looked around.

Hay and several bags of grain were stored in the loft. Someone could be hiding up there. Jarrod looked, waited.

Suddenly, someone came in down below, whistling. It was Toby, the attendant. Jarrod saw him. "Toby, get the sheriff!" Jarrod yelled.

Toby stopped dead, looking up.

"Go get the sheriff!" Jarrod yelled again.

Toby ran out, and Jarrod looked quickly everywhere. If someone was up here, he would run for it now that he heard the sheriff would be coming. But nothing moved. No one ran. Jarrod stayed on the ladder, his eyes just above the level of the loft. He kept watching. Nothing was moving.

Jarrod stayed where he was, but now he was fairly certain that whoever had been up there had gotten out the back in that brief moment when Jarrod went out to the street. It was only a couple minutes before Toby came running back in with Sheriff Madden.

"What's going on?" the sheriff yelled up to Jarrod.

"Someone was hiding up here, but I think he got away," Jarrod said. "Cover me while I look around up here."

"Jarrod, get the hell down from there!" the sheriff yelled, but Jarrod had already gotten up into the loft. "I said, get down here!"

Jarrod moved around just a bit, assuring himself that there was no one up there. Then he holstered his gun and came back down the ladder.

"You could have gotten killed!" Sheriff Madden yelled at him. "If someone was up there, he could have killed you! Why are you doing something as idiotic as that?!"

Jarrod said, "I was pretty sure he was gone before I went up there, Fred," Jarrod said.

"When I tell you to do something, you do it, you got that?" Sheriff Madden yelled into Jarrod's face. "I tell you to come down, you do nothing but come down!"

Jarrod knew he should have done that, and he nodded. "You're right, of course. I was wrong. I'm sorry. I just thought maybe we had him cornered up there."

"It's my job to do the cornering, not yours!"

Jarrod held his hands up in surrender. "You're right. It won't happen again."

Sheriff Madden calmed down a little. "Did you get a look at who was up there?"

Jarrod shook his head. "I heard someone moving around, but I think he got out the back before I got up there. I never saw a thing."

"I'm going to have a look around up there, see if whoever you heard might have left something. Toby, go find one of my deputies, get him over here pronto."

Toby hurried out.

As Sheriff Madden headed for the ladder, Jarrod stayed where he was, saying, "I'll stay until your deputy gets here."

Up one rung on the ladder, Sheriff Madden looked at him, hard. "You do not move. You stay right there."

Jarrod nodded. "Right here."

It was another five minutes before the deputy showed up. Sheriff Madden had gotten into the loft, opened the doors up there to get more light and taken a quick look around. As soon as the deputy was down there, the sheriff called down. "Jarrod, get up here. Show me where you think this fella was."

Jarrod climbed back up into the loft and moved to the area directly over the stall where his horse was waiting patiently for him. "I first heard him about here, then it sounded like he was trying to open those doors you just opened. I thought he was getting out, so I went out to the street. I didn't see anything, so I came back in and he must have ducked out the back way while I was out front."

Sheriff Madden started nosing around the hay and the grain, but he hadn't done much before he said, "You get out of here. Go home before it gets dark. Jack and I will go over this loft and see if we can find anything. Jack, once Jarrod is down, you come on up."

Jarrod did as he was told without another word. As soon as he was down, the deputy started up the ladder. Jarrod backed his horse out of its stall and began to saddle it. "Did you find anything?" Jarrod called when he finished saddling his horse.

"Not yet," the sheriff said. "Go on home."

"I'll talk to you in the morning," Jarrod said and led his horse out into the street.

He mounted up, and as he rode out of town he looked long and hard at everyone and everything he passed. He was sure someone had been up in that loft, and whoever it was ran. That meant it had to be someone up to no good – and Jarrod felt it sink in for the first time. Someone was about to ambush him in the livery. It was only luck that saved his life. The man killing lawyers was no longer focusing only on shooting single lawyers who lived alone, and shooting them in the dark. He was changing his pattern, and now Jarrod knew he no longer had that cozy safe place to believe he was in. Now he was at risk, too.

XXXXXXXX

"All right, that's it," Nick said as soon as Jarrod had finished explaining what happened at the livery stable. "You don't go into town alone again, not until this is over."

Everyone expected Jarrod to object, but instead, he said very calmly, "You can't stay with me all day, and you don't need to. Send somebody to go in with me and to come home with me and that will be enough."

"Jarrod, everyone who's been attacked has been attacked in town," Heath pointed out.

"I'll avoid being alone when I'm in town," Jarrod said. And when he family all looked unhappy, he said, "Look, I'm working for the State right now. No one can just sit in on things that I'm doing that are not public, like a trial is."

"Don't you have a trial tomorrow?" Victoria asked.

"Only if I can't get a guilty plea."

"Well, then let me or Nick go with you and stay long enough to see if you're gonna get a guilty plea," Heath said. "If you don't and you have a trial, we'll stay. If you get a guilty plea and go back to your office, we'll head home and either come back later or send somebody else back to head home with you."

Jarrod sighed. It was a better arrangement than he thought he was going to get, but then again, he had to admit to himself, if not to them, that he had been frightened by what happened in the livery stable. He was steadying his nerves again now, but at the stable, he was scared.

"All right," Jarrod said. "Decide which one of you is going with me. I'm going up to talk to Archer for a few minutes."

The family stayed quiet until Jarrod was out of sight upstairs. Audra spoke first. "I think what happened today shook him up."

"I think it would shake anybody up," Nick said. He didn't want to think about how close Jarrod came to be another victim of whoever had it in for lawyers.

As if she were reading his mind, Victoria said, "I wonder what this shooter has against lawyers?"

"That's the big question, isn't it?" Nick asked.

"Lawyers aren't all that popular with everybody," Heath said. "Look how many men Jarrod put away have come after him when they got out. And I'm sure he's not the only lawyer in town who's been threatened before."

"And nobody likes Phil Archer," Nick said.

"He's not a pleasant person," Victoria agreed, "but that's no reason to shoot a man."

"It could be for some people," Heath said, "but that wouldn't explain why Kemper and Tiebolt were killed. They weren't particularly difficult men."

"No," Victoria said. "No, and it seems what's happening is oddly personal – not personal to the victims. Personal to the shooter."

"What do you mean?" Nick asked.

Victoria thought out loud. "Like there's something about the shooter that makes him hate lawyers. Not because of who the lawyers are, but because of who the shooter is." Victoria mused silently for a moment and then said, "Well, I'm sure the sheriff is looking at that angle, too. He'll find out who's behind this."

Nick and Heath looked at each other, understanding each other. They both hoped the sheriff would find the man before anyone else was hurt, especially Jarrod.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Nick drew the short straw and ended up riding with Jarrod into town, and as luck would have it, Jarrod's case did not plead out. Nick had to stay sitting in the courtroom, the only spectator in a very dull trial. It was all Nick could do to stay awake. His head kept dropping forward, but luckily that always made him wake up. At one point he thought he saw the judge giving him a dirty look.

It was not a jury trial, so there was no need to drag things out longer with jury instructions and waiting for a verdict. The judge, in fact, didn't even leave the bench to think things over after the evidence was all delivered and Jarrod and the defense attorney – an older man Nick did not even know – had finished their arguments. The judge just gave a few reasons he was finding the defendant guilty and sentenced him to six months in the county jail. The whole thing was over by one in the afternoon.

Jarrod packed up his things and walked back to where Nick was standing up. "Did you have a nice nap?" Jarrod asked.

"I didn't snore, did I?" Nick asked, embarrassed.

"More like snorted once or twice, waking yourself up," Jarrod said. "Let me run my briefcase by the office and I'll let you buy me lunch."

"I didn't bring any money," Nick said.

"Then we'll go to Harry's and you can put it on your tab," Jarrod said and led the way out.

When they got to Harry's, they found the place only sparsely inhabited – Harry, one saloon girl, and four customers eating and drinking. Harry already had sandwiches sitting out on the bar. Nick ordered a beer and Jarrod a cup of coffee. Then they took their sandwiches and drinks to a table in the back.

"You can head on home if you want," Jarrod said.

Nick said, "Naw, I'd be right back in a couple hours. I can put in some orders at the mercantile, drop in on Sally Ann for a while, come back to the office for you about four. Does that sound all right?"

"Yeah, fine," Jarrod said.

"You gonna be out and about anywhere?"

"Depends on what I find when I start working on tomorrow's file, but don't worry. I'll stay out of dark livery stables."

"Don't get too cocky. That's what got you into trouble yesterday."

"I'll be careful, Nick."

They had finished and were on their way out the door when they ran into Sheriff Madden on the street. He looked like he had been rushing around. Jarrod spotted one of the deputies in a hurry, going toward the other end of town. Nick was about to head for the mercantile, but Jarrod took hold of his arm and held him there.

"Fred, what's going on?" Jarrod asked.

Sheriff Madden sighed. "Another shooting. Len Main. He was alone in his office, secretary had gone out to lunch. Somebody heard a shot and sent for me. I found him at his desk about fifteen minutes ago."

Jarrod closed his eyes. Nick asked, "Who's Len Main?"

Jarrod said, "The lawyer you saw with me in court this morning. Is he alive?"

The sheriff shook his head.

"Did anybody see anybody this time?"

The sheriff shook his head again. "Whoever did it was in and out like a ghost. Just blended right in with the people on the street."

Jarrod swore under his breath. "Len was a widower, lived alone but he lived several miles out of town."

"I'm trying to find out who was in the vicinity at the time – questioning everybody I can get my hands on. Where were you two?"

"Harry's, eating lunch," Jarrod said.

The sheriff said, "Jarrod, you can afford to have somebody with you at all times. I suggest you do it."

Sheriff Madden moved on then, chasing down people. It was going to be a tough task, finding everyone who might have been around Main's office when the shot went off. Jarrod watched him go, and Nick watched Jarrod. He could see wheels turning behind his brother's deep blue eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" Nick asked.

"Finding this s.o.b. before he gets to anybody else," Jarrod said. "I need to get back to my office and review tomorrow's case. You go on to the mercantile and Sally Ann's and then come to my office in the courthouse."

Jarrod went on back to the courthouse before Nick could say anything, but Nick watched him go and kept watching until he saw Jarrod go in. But was the courthouse even safe anymore? This whole thing was out of hand. Jarrod was worried about it. Sheriff Madden was worried about it. Nick was worried about it. Four men shot, three dead. This had to stop.

XXXXXXX

Nick came to Jarrod's office in the courthouse at about four, but Jarrod wasn't there. At first, he was alarmed, but the secretary said the sheriff had come by and Jarrod left with him, so Nick calmed down and headed for the sheriff's office. When he got there, he found Jarrod and the sheriff huddled over the sheriff's desk, going over a list of names. They looked up at Nick, and Jarrod leaned back in his chair.

"It looks like I'm gonna have to quit, Fred," Jarrod said and stood up.

"Let me have one more minute," the sheriff said. "This last name – Turner Powers."

"Turner?" Jarrod said. "Yeah, we know him. He's a friend of Heath's. He works out at the Peters ranch."

"I don't know him at all," Sheriff Madden said. "What do you know about him?"

Jarrod shrugged and looked at Nick, who also shrugged. "He's never been in trouble here," Nick said. "That's why you don't know him. Happy guy, harmless."

"Was he on the street today?" Jarrod asked.

The sheriff nodded. "Several people gave me his name. I'll need to go talk to him."

"Fred, Turner wouldn't hurt a fly," Nick said.

"I didn't say he did, but maybe he saw something, so I gotta talk to him."

"You've got a lot of people to talk to," Jarrod said.

"I'd ask you to help, but I don't want you talking to somebody who might kill you," the sheriff said. "And you've still got Archer's cases to handle."

"I can help," Nick said. "I can get Heath to go with me. We'll be all right. We can start tomorrow with Turner Powers."

Sheriff Madden sighed and rubbed his forehead with one hand. "All right. Come here first thing tomorrow and I'll deputize you."

Nick and Jarrod headed for the door, Nick saying, "We'll ride in and ride home with you, Jarrod."

"See you tomorrow, Fred," Jarrod said. "You're a witness in that case I've got on trial."

"Get a plea, Jarrod," Sheriff Madden said. "I really don't have time to go to court."

"I'll do my best," Jarrod said.

Once they were outside, Jarrod headed the wrong way. "The horses are at the livery," Nick said. "Where you going?"

"The undertaker's," Jarrod said. That was all he needed to say.

Nick went along with him.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Later at home, well after dark, Jarrod stepped out on the verandah outside the library and smoked a cigar. The air was cool and fresh, and it felt good to just look up at the stars for a while. Jarrod put all his other troubles out of his mind, at least for these few minutes, until someone came out behind him.

"Nick says we're going to go in and help the sheriff tomorrow," Heath said to him.

"Yeah," Jarrod said. "Nick thought it might be a good idea for you to talk to Turner Powers."

"Jarrod, you know Turner doesn't have anything to do with this."

"Actually, Heath, I don't know, but I don't suspect, either. The sheriff's just trying to talk to everyone who was in the area when Len Main was killed, and somebody said Turner was there. Maybe Turner saw somebody suspicious. Who knows?"

"I think maybe I'll suggest the sheriff ask people if they were around the livery when somebody was watching you there. Maybe somebody will turn up in both places."

"Maybe. Suggesting can't hurt."

"How are you doing? Has all this got you on edge?"

"It's got me angry. On edge, yes, especially after the livery stable, but mostly angry. Three men dead. Archer wounded. We have to find this guy."

"I'm with you there. I wish I had some better ideas about how to do it."

"How's Archer doing today? Has Mother said, or did you see him?"

"Mother and Audra both tended to him. Mother thinks he's ready to get out of bed tomorrow, if the doctor okays it when he comes out. That should be interesting, having Archer roam around the house."

"Knowing Archer, he's going to want to go to his own home, if the doctor says it's all right for him to be out of bed."

Heath thought he read something in Jarrod's voice. "Are you worried about that?"

"I don't want to send him home only to have somebody go out to his house and kill him," Jarrod said.

"Good point. Maybe you ought to talk to him about that."

"I think I'll talk to Mother. She probably has more pull with him than I do."

"What time do you want to go in in the morning?" Heath asked.

"We'll leave here about seven, seven thirty," Jarrod said. "I'll go do my own tasks while you go see Turner. Heath – I want you to keep something in mind. Just because you know him, just because you think he couldn't be doing this, doesn't mean he isn't doing it."

Heath nodded. "I know, Jarrod. I hope you realize that just because you're in your office or walking around town in the daylight doesn't mean you can't be attacked. You need to be very, very careful."

Jarrod nodded. "I know."

XXXXXXX

The next day, after his brothers delivered him to the courthouse, Jarrod fetched the file for the case he had on the docket – another saloon brawl with one participant ending up with a broken nose. The trial was set for nine o'clock. Jarrod found the defendant alone on a bench outside the courtroom at eight thirty. He recognized the man – a young guy named Cramer who worked at a ranch near the Miles spread.

"No lawyer, Cramer?" Jarrod asked.

"Can't afford one," Cramer said.

Jarrod looked around. The sheriff was not there. Neither was the man with the broken nose, a man named Swift who worked at the same spread. "Where's Swift?"

"He left town the day before yesterday," Cramer said.

"Left town? Where'd he go?"

"Said he was moving south, that's all. Couldn't stand the sight of me anymore, and the boss said he could leave if he felt that way, so he did."

Jarrod heaved a sigh. He wasn't about to take this guy's word for that, but he said, "All right. You take yourself into the courtroom when it opens up. If Swift doesn't show up before the judge does, we'll see about where we go."

"If he doesn't show up, I won't go to jail, will I?"

"It depends on what the sheriff says," Jarrod said. "Don't go taking off, though. That'll send the sheriff looking for you."

"Okay."

Jarrod headed back to his office, grabbed a quick cup of coffee and gave the secretary some scribbled notes to type up, then headed back to the courtroom. Cramer was sitting inside the room now. Sheriff Madden was in the room, too, as were the bailiff and the court reporter, but that was it. No Swift.

Jarrod approached the sheriff. "Cramer says Swift left town. How long did you have Cramer locked up for?"

"Two days before he made bail," Sheriff Madden said.

"Assuming Swift doesn't walk in the door before the judge does, why don't I just dismiss this case?"

"Suits me, but I'm gonna give Cramer a good hard warning not to get into bar fights again."

Jarrod nodded and went up to the prosecution table. He no sooner had put his briefcase down when the judge entered, the bailiff told everyone to rise, and the judge sat down. Everyone but Jarrod sat back down as Judge Farnham looked around. "Where is everybody, Mr. Barkley?" the judge asked.

"The defendant is here, Your Honor," Jarrod said, pointing to Cramer, "but the victim is not. According to the defendant, the victim has left town."

Judge Farnham eyed Cramer, saying, "Come up here to this table, son."

Cramer came up to the defense table and stood there.

"Do you know the victim well, Mr. Cramer?" Judge Farnham asked.

"Yes, sir, we worked together," Cramer said.

"When did he leave town?"

"Night before last, sir."

Judge Farnham looked around the room one more time and then said, "Do you have a motion, Mr. Barkley?"

"Move to dismiss, Your Honor," Jarrod said.

"Motion granted. Case dismissed," Judge Farnham said, then got up and left the room.

Cramer looked confused. "That's it?"

"That's it," Jarrod said. "You're free to go."

Sheriff Madden approached them. "Let's you and me have a little talk on the way out the door, son," he said to Cramer and escorted him out.

Jarrod saw the bailiff smiling and shaking his head.

XXXXXXX

At the same time Jarrod was finishing his case, Nick and Heath were tracking Turner Powers down out on the ranch where he worked. He was clearing some dead trees not far from the main house along with several other men who looked suspicious when Nick and Heath took him aside.

"What's going on?" Turner asked.

"The sheriff asked us to talk to you, Turner," Heath asked.

"I already talked to him about what I saw yesterday," Turner said. "It wasn't really anything."

"We know," Heath said, "but there was something else he wanted us to ask you. He's asking everybody but he can't do it all himself, so he asked us to talk to you. Were you in town the day before yesterday?"

"Day before?" Turner asked, thinking. "No, I wasn't. Did something happen then?"

"Jarrod ran into somebody in the livery stable," Nick said. "He didn't get a look at him. We're trying to find somebody who might have."

"Sorry," Turner said. "Is Jarrod all right?"

"Yeah, he's fine," Nick said. "Nothing happened."

"You know we got a big problem in town, Turner," Heath said.

Turner nodded. "I know. Somebody's killing lawyers, but that's all I know. Like I told the sheriff, I didn't see anybody near Mr. Main's office yesterday that I didn't know. I gave him the names of everybody I remembered."

Nick and Heath looked at each other. "How about the talk around here?" Nick asked. "Has anybody had anything interesting to say?"

Turner smiled a crooked smile, the kind that said he really didn't think he should be smiling but he was. "A little talk – nothing much."

"What kind of nothing much?"

Turner shrugged. "Jarrod's gotten a couple guys out of trouble – they liked that. But one guy – fella named Norman Alder, works at the stable at the house – Jarrod defended him on a charge a couple years back but didn't get him off. He didn't like that much."

"What kind of charge?" Heath asked.

"He beat up a saloon girl, did some time, but he's been clean since then. No more trouble."

Nick and Heath looked at each other again. "Does anybody else around here not like lawyers?" Nick asked.

"Well – nobody really _likes_ them," Turner said. "You know how it is. You only see them when you're in trouble, and they cost you a lot of money."

"Have you ever hired a lawyer, Turner? Nick asked.

"Me?" Turner laughed. "No. I keep my nose clean. I stay out of trouble. I don't need the grief."

Nick and Heath looked at each other. "I guess we better talk to this guy Alder," Nick said.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Jarrod went back to the office in the courthouse after the Cramer case and was happy to see Mark Schenk had come in. Jarrod had been slightly worried that something had happened to him, but Mark shook his head when Jarrod brought it up.

"No problems for me so far," Schenk said. "I spent all day the past two days tracking down witnesses in one of my cases. I wasn't even in town, but I heard about Len Main this morning. This is not good, Jarrod."

Jarrod could tell Schenk was feeling uneasy, and he couldn't blame him. "Somebody was stalking me in the livery stable the other day, but he got away and I never saw him."

"You?" Schenk said.

Their secretary looked even more nervous than they felt. Jarrod gave her a smile and said to Schenk, "Stick to very public areas as much as you can until whoever is after us is found. That's our best bet." Then he looked at the secretary. "You, too, Maddy, even though I don't think there's any threat to you at all."

"I'm not worried about me," she said. "I'm worried about you."

"Don't be," Jarrod said. "We'll be all right."

"I hear you have Archer recovering out at your place," Schenk said, trying to get off the subject that was making him the most nervous.

Jarrod nodded. "He's being a pretty decent patient. The trouble may be keeping him from going home too early for his own good. At our place he's pretty safe. On his own, not so much."

Abruptly, the door opened and Sheriff Madden came in. He had a very unhappy look on his face. "I need to talk to you two," he said.

Jarrod motioned him and Schenk into Archer's office and closed the door.

The sheriff immediately said, "There's been another attack. Sam Davison."

"Sam?!" Schenk blurted out.

"He's alive, found behind the livery stable about half an hour ago," the sheriff said.

"The doctor has him?"

The sheriff said, "He was taken home. Doc said it looked like he was going to be all right. I'm heading over there right now."

"May I go with you?" Jarrod asked.

"I was going to ask you to. Mark, you ought to come, too. If he's conscious, he's gonna want to get you two organized so this office can continue to operate."

They went back out to the secretary's office and found Maddy crying now. Someone had been here and given her the news. Jarrod squeezed her shoulder, saying, "Maddy, we'll be back pretty quickly. Are you all right? Can you go talk to Mr. Davison's secretary, make sure she's all right?"

Maddy nodded as she stood up. "I'll go right now."

They all left together, Maddy heading down the hall and the men heading outside. Neither Jarrod nor Schenk took the time to strap on his gun belt. Sam Davison did not live that far away, and within five minutes, they were there.

Davison's wife was not the kind to fall apart easily. She met the men at the door, composed but worried. The sheriff, the only one wearing a hat, removed it, saying, "Alice, how is he?"

She let them in. "The doctor is still with him, but he's awake. Sheriff, you need to talk to him. He saw who shot him."

She led the sheriff into the back bedroom. Jarrod and Schenk followed but stayed in the hall. The door to the bedroom was open and they left it that way. Sam Davison was sitting up on the edge of the bed, Dr. Merar standing beside him. Davison was bandaged around his right shoulder and pale as death, but wide awake.

"Sam," Sheriff Madden said. "How are you?"

"Pretty good, all things considered," Davison said. "I saw him, Fred. I saw who shot me."

"When did this happen?"

"Just after dawn. I was headed to the courthouse because I wanted to be there early. I took my horse to the livery because I was due to go out to the Paterson place. No one was in the livery, so I just put my horse up and headed out the back. He was in the alley, shot me. I played dead, and he just ran."

"Did you know him?"

"No, but I saw him as he ran away. The bad news is he looks like any other wrangler. The good news is that as he ran away, I saw his boots. The left has a thicker sole and heel. His left leg is shorter than the right."

"That's good, Sam. That's good. Hair color? Eyes if you saw them."

"Black hair, but I didn't see his eyes," Davison said. "Not as tall as I am, maybe five-nine or ten. Wearing a blue shirt, grey hat, dark trousers, boots either brown or dirty black."

The sheriff smiled. "You're a prosecutor's dream, Sam, but I guess that just figures." Then he turned to look at Jarrod and Schenk. "Do either of you know anybody like that?"

They both shook their heads. Jarrod said, "It must be a stranger in town. It doesn't sound like anyone I've ever seen around here, but with uneven boots, we ought to be able to spot him pretty easily."

Davison smiled. Dr. Merar said, "All right, I need to finish up with my patient and he needs some rest. The bullet went through without damaging anything but muscle, so Sam should be fine in a couple weeks, but I don't want him pushing things too soon."

"Jarrod, I know you're doing Archer's cases," Davison said. "Mark, can you take them over? I'd like Jarrod to take my place until I'm back on my feet."

"Of course," Schenk said.

Jarrod nodded. "We'll take care of the office, Sam. You get well."

The sheriff looked at Jarrod and Schenk, then back at Davison, his wife and the doctor. "One more thing. None of you is to talk about the description of this man to anyone. I don't want him getting wind of it and leaving town before we catch him. Jarrod, your brothers are deputized, so I'll tell them and my other deputies, but other than that, no one is to know. This man is dangerous, to say the least. We don't need everybody in town to be a potential threat to him."

Everyone nodded.

"And if you see anybody fitting this description, you don't go trying to apprehend him. You come to me, fast as you can."

They all nodded again.

Then Sheriff Madden actually smiled. "We're gonna get him. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, but we're gonna get him."

XXXXXXX

When Nick and Heath got back to town, they reported in to Sheriff Madden and told him that neither Turner nor this guy Alder had anything helpful to say. The sheriff told them about Davison and what he had said. "Why don't we nose around town a bit?" Nick offered. "I could stand a beer and a sandwich, and we could go by the mercantile and the bank and make like we're just running errands."

Sheriff Madden said, "If you spot him, one of you keep watch on him and the other come get me, but don't let him know you're eying him."

Nick and Heath both nodded and headed out the door. Heath said, "Why don't we go get Jarrod and take him to lunch if he has time?"

Nick nodded, and in a few minutes, they were at Archer's office in the courthouse. They found Jarrod reviewing a file. "Come get something to eat with us," Nick said.

Jarrod got up and fetched his gun belt. "Sounds good. Did you see the sheriff?"

"Yeah," Nick said.

"We heard about Davison and got the description of who shot him," Heath said, "and the warning about letting it out."

Nick led the way out, Jarrod and Heath behind him. Jarrod told the secretary they were going to Harry's, and in a few more minutes, they were there. They took a table and one of the saloon girls brought Nick and Heath beer and a sandwich. Jarrod accepted a sandwich, but drank coffee.

"We can rule out the three guys standing at the bar," Nick said quietly.

"I noticed," Jarrod said. "What are you boys gonna do this afternoon?"

"Go to the bank and get some cash," Heath said. "Then go to the mercantile and buy some new socks."

"Maybe stop by Big Annie's," Nick said, "and a place or two on the waterfront."

"Be back in my office by four," Jarrod said, "unless you have some luck, in which case I'll see you at the sheriff's office. And be careful, will you? If this shooter feels threatened, he won't hesitate to shoot a lawyer's brothers instead of the lawyer."

"You gonna be in the office all afternoon?" Nick asked.

"I'll take over Sam Davison's office, per his request," Jarrod said. "Mark Schenk will take Archer's cases."

"If you go out alone, you stick to public places."

"I will," Jarrod said, "but I doubt I'll be going out of the office. I've got too much to do there."

"All right, sounds like we've got plans," Heath said.

His brothers nodded, and Jarrod raised his cup of coffee in a toast. "To the end of this."

"To the end," both Nick and Heath raised their beers and agreed.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Nick and Heath went to the bank first, and while Heath withdrew some cash, Nick stood at the window, trying to look casual while looking at the people passing outside. He didn't see anyone whose boots looked uneven, and he shook his head as Heath came away from the teller's window and toward him. They went outside.

They played it the same at the mercantile, Nick looking out the window and at the men who came in while Heath found himself a couple pairs of socks and paid for them. Again, Nick saw nothing. They left together and stopped just outside the door, looking around.

"You know, I had a bad thought," Nick said.

"What?" Heath asked.

"What if this guy knew Davison saw him and left town?"

"That's possible, I guess, but if he knew Davison saw him, he'd have shot him a second time and made sure he was dead, wouldn't he?"

Nick grunted. "I suppose, unless the guy's the nervous type and runs as soon as he takes one shot. That's what he did with the others."

Heath heaved a sigh. "Well, let's just stick to the plan. You want to go over to Big Annie's first or down to the waterfront?"

"Big Annie's. After that, I'll want a beer. Sometimes I get a bad taste in my mouth after I've been to Big Annie's and I need a beer."

"You could always just stop going to Big Annie's."

"I could."

XXXXX

The three Barkley brothers rode into the stable yard at their home at about five-thirty and were soon going into the house. Victoria and Audra were in the living room, talking – and so was Phil Archer, who was on the settee beside Victoria.

"Well, look who's up and around," Jarrod said, putting his briefcase down, leaving his hat on the table in the foyer and coming into the living room. "Feeling better, Phil?"

"Better than I was, but I'd be better still if I could go home," Archer said.

"We might be able to work that out over the next few days," Nick said. He hit Jarrod slightly on the arm to get his attention, then held his hand out for Jarrod's holster. Jarrod took it off and handed it to him. Nick took Jarrod's and his own holster into the hall to hang them up.

"You've found out something?" Archer asked.

Jarrod nodded and headed for the scotch. "Some leads, but he shot Sam Davison today," Jarrod said.

"Sam?" Archer said, shocked. "Is he all right?"

"He will be, but your best plan to stay right here until we catch this guy."

"And you're not ready to be on your own yet anyway," Audra said to Archer.

"Audra's right," Victoria said. "You need a few more days with some help."

Jarrod had come to the fireplace with his scotch, while Nick and Heath fetched their own whiskey. Nick said. "I'll ride back to town with you in the morning, Jarrod. See if I can help the sheriff any."

"Sam had me give your cases to Mark Schenk while I take over his workload until he's back on his feet," Jarrod said to Archer.

"Some vacation," Audra said.

"We better get this guy soon," Archer said. "We're running out of lawyers."

"I just don't want to see another one die," Jarrod said. "And I wish I knew why this guy has already shot so many."

"We'll find that out, too," Heath said.

Nick looked at his younger brother. "You wanna go back into town after dinner?"

"I wouldn't advise that," Jarrod said before Heath could answer, and Nick gave him a hard look. "You're not lawyers, but you're a lawyer's brothers. He's already tried for me and missed. He could try for you instead. Stay out of town when it's dark, unless the sheriff wants you there."

"I doubt the shooter will be trying for us," Nick said and sipped his whiskey.

"Listen, if you don't want me to be taking chances, then I don't want you to take any, either," Jarrod said. "Come to town with me in the morning and talk to the sheriff. If he wants you to stick around after dark, all right. But if you intend to go back in after dinner tonight, then I'm going with you."

"Hey – " Nick started.

"End of discussion, Nick!" Jarrod said.

"Indeed, it is," Victoria said. "Jarrod is right, Nick. Let the sheriff do his job tonight and see what he wants you to do in the morning."

"All right," Nick agreed.

"I'll go with you tomorrow," Heath said. "We don't need you wandering around alone even in the daylight, Nick. We don't need to give this guy another target."

"It's decided then," Victoria said. "Let's take this topic off the table for tonight."

Everyone was silent for a moment, then Archer said out of the blue, "You have a very interesting family dynamic."

Nobody knew how to respond to that.

XXXXXXXX

The three Barkley brothers rode into town at about eight the next morning. Nick and Heath were heading for the sheriff's office, and Jarrod decided he ought to stop there before going to Davison's office. They all left their horses at the livery – and Nick and Heath noticed Jarrod giving a quick look at the loft as they went out. In a few minutes, they walked into the sheriff's office, and found him there rubbing his forehead.

"Morning, Fred," Nick said.

Sheriff Madden looked up. "Somebody took a shot at Mark Schenk last night."

Jarrod looked devastated – then enraged.

"He's all right," the sheriff said quickly. "The shooter missed, but he was gone before Mark could get a look. All he saw was a dark blob running away out of the street light."

"All right, this has gone too far," Jarrod said. "Fred, you have to start asking everybody on the street about anybody with an uneven shoe."

"Already have," Sheriff Madden said, "but you'd be amazed at how many people never look at anybody else's feet."

"They'll look now," Heath said.

"That's what I'm hoping," Sheriff Madden said. "Jarrod, you best go on to the office. Mark was pretty shaken up, and he'll be in late if he comes in at all. That leaves you alone with all that workload."

Jarrod left and headed fast for the courthouse. The street wasn't very crowded yet, but some people were moving around. Jarrod scanned constantly, looking at feet, wishing he somehow would see the uneven shoe, but he never did. Somebody called his name.

Jarrod looked and saw Turner Powers climbing down from a wagon near the dry goods store. Turner came toward him, smiling. _How can anybody be smiling?_ Jarrod wondered and felt very irritated, but then he remembered the kind of man Turner was – fun loving, a bit immature, often a bit inappropriate. "Hi, Turner," Jarrod said.

"Did Heath come in with you today?" Turner asked.

"Yeah, he and Nick are helping the sheriff try to find the guy who's killing my colleagues."

Jarrod started away, but Turner said, "Wait a minute, Jarrod. Somebody just told me the sheriff was looking for somebody with a thick sole on his left shoe."

Jarrod stopped. "Yes. Do you know somebody like that?"

"Yeah, and I saw him, right around the time Mr. Main was shot – "

Suddenly, Jarrod heard a shot and Turner was knocked flat on his face into the dirt. Jarrod pulled his gun out, looking around frantically in the direction the shot had come from. The handful of people in the street began to blurt out screams and run for cover, but Jarrod was glued to the middle of the road, and then he knelt to see how bad Turner was hurt. The poor man wasn't moving at all. There was blood oozing from a hole in the back of his shirt.

"Oh, Turner," Jarrod moaned.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Jarrod sat in the doctor's waiting area with both his brothers, his face in his hands. Nick and Heath could only look at each other as Jarrod looked up at the door to the treatment room and said, "That was meant for me. Turner got in the way."

"The killer's getting careless, shooting in broad daylight in the street like that," Heath said. Heath sat beside Jarrod, trying to rein in his own despair, wishing he could be with Turner right now. Turner was one of the best men he knew.

"Maybe he was after Turner," Nick mused. "Maybe the shooter knew Turner knew who he was."

Jarrod shook his head. "I don't think Turner had let on to anybody that he suspected who the shooter was. Judging from the direction, that shot was meant for me."

Heath said, "Maybe somebody saw the shooter this time."

"Is that where Fred is?" Jarrod asked. "Checking for witnesses?"

"Yeah," Nick said.

They had already been waiting for more than an hour. Heath got up for the tenth time and began to pace. Jarrod was ready to jump out of his skin, but was afraid that if he began to move, he'd go find the sheriff, then go find the shooter, and then just kill that man.

Nick knew both his brothers were in trouble right now, Heath because Turner was his friend, Jarrod because Turner was hurt because of him. Nick wasn't used to being the only one whose feelings weren't running away with him. He wasn't used to being the stable one, but he was now. He had to be now.

The treatment door opened and Dr. Merar came out. Jarrod jumped up. Dr. Merar looked very tired. The front of the apron he wore when he was removing bullets was bloody.

"He's alive," Dr. Merar said. "He's in for a fight, though. I've done what I can do, and the rest is up to him."

"Is he awake?" Jarrod asked.

"Yes, and he wants to talk to you, but only for a minute, Jarrod."

Jarrod hurried in, and when Heath went in behind him, Dr. Merar let him. Nick and the doctor waited in the doorway, watching and listening.

"Turner, I'm right here," Jarrod said.

Heath took hold of Turner's hand. Turner gave him a weak grin and said, "Don't worry, Heath. I'll be playing poker again by Friday night."

"Get well before you start giving money away," Heath said.

Turner looked toward Jarrod. "Steve Carlin," he said. "The man you want is Steve Carlin." Turner started to weaken, and he fought to get the rest out. "Wrangler at the Stevenson ranch. Go get him."

"Thank you, Turner," Jarrod said.

Turner lost consciousness, but he had a smile on his face.

"Out," Dr. Merar said quietly and ushered the Barkley men out.

Jarrod headed straight out the door to the street, with Heath and Nick right behind him. In a moment they were at the sheriff's office, but he wasn't there. They went back out onto the street to look for him, moving fast even though they didn't know where to go. Nick and Heath flanked Jarrod, not sure whether this Carlin fellow was still around and planning to take another shot at their older brother. They finally came upon the sheriff near the courthouse.

"Steve Carlin, from the Stevenson ranch," Jarrod said immediately. "That's what Turner was trying to tell me when he was shot. Carlin is the guy with the uneven shoe."

Sheriff Madden said, "You best get into your office in the courthouse, Jarrod. I haven't found anybody here in town. Nick, Heath, will you go out to the Stevenson place with me?"

Jarrod had been persona non grata at the Stevenson place since he was forced to kill several of the Stevenson men in a shootout in the street some months earlier. Jarrod just headed wordlessly for his office, while Nick and Heath - watching Jarrod until he reached the courthouse - went with the sheriff up to the livery to get their horses.

XXXXXXX

Steve Carlin was a young man, new to the area, born with one leg shorter than the other and it had never caught up. All through his life he had fought a bad hip because of those uneven legs, and put up with people staring at him like he was a freak, but a few years ago, a doctor had spotted him on the street in Modesto and recommended this special shoe. It was a godsend. The pain in his hip practically disappeared, and he could walk like a normal human being. And not too many people even noticed that his shoes were different.

Carlin knew, as he watched the sheriff and the Barkley brothers ride into the stable yard where he worked at the Stevenson ranch, that the game was up for him. Maybe somebody had seen that shoe, or seen him, or something like that, but he knew the sheriff had come for him. Carlin watched Mr. Stevenson talking to the sheriff and the Barkley brothers, and he made his decision.

He quietly slipped through the stable and out the back door to make a run for it, but there was no horse available out there. He went back into the stable to try to get to a horse, but he was too late. The sheriff and the Barkley brothers were there in the stable, looking at him.

"I want to talk to you, Carlin," Sheriff Madden said.

Carlin looked from the sheriff to the two Barkleys and to Mr. Stevenson standing behind them. He couldn't run. It wouldn't work. "About what?" he asked.

"About you being seen by Sam Davison after you shot him," Sheriff Madden said.

"I didn't shoot anybody," Carlin said.

"Steve, you best go with the sheriff," Stevenson said. "Saddle a horse and go."

Carlin gave in, at least for the time being. While all four men watched him, he saddled a horse, and soon he was riding with the sheriff and the Barkleys toward town. Unarmed, he knew he didn't have much of a chance to get away, but he also knew he had saddled the fastest horse in the Stevenson livery. Carefully, he pulled ahead of the three men escorting him, and as soon as he saw his chance, he took off.

Heath saw the move coming, and he was ahead of Nick and the sheriff in chasing Carlin. Heath's own horse was one of the fastest in the Barkley stable, and soon he was catching up to Carlin, while they both were pulling away from Nick and the sheriff.

It took almost a mile for Heath to catch up to Carlin, but he did, and he went flying out of the saddle, grabbing Carlin and letting momentum push them both out into the road. Soon they were on the ground. Heath hit the man, and Carlin swung back. Carlin made a grab for Heath's gun, but Heath got to it quicker. Straddling Carlin in the dirt, he shoved his gun in Carlin's face and cocked it. Carlin froze.

"You've shot a lot of men, you tried to kill my brother, and you shot one of my best friends instead," Heath said quietly, tensely, very seriously. "If you even bat an eyelash, I'm gonna shoot you, and nobody will question what I did."

Nick and the sheriff caught up and dismounted, but they stood safely away as Heath climbed to his feet and pulled Carlin up with him. As soon as they were standing, Heath holstered his gun and shoved Carlin toward the sheriff. Fred Madden had handcuffs with him, and he cuffed Carlin.

"I'm gonna go get the horses," Heath said and walked further up the road to get his horse and Carlin's and bring them back.

"You know," Nick said into Carlin's face, "the funny thing is, you're gonna need a good lawyer."

Carlin spat in Nick's face.

Sheriff Madden spun Carlin away before Nick could get a hold on him. "Take it easy, Nick. You'll get the last laugh when he swings from a rope."

Carlin said, "No," and remembered the doctor who had gotten him this shoe. "I already got the last laugh."

Nick made a grab for him again, but again the sheriff pulled Carlin out of his way. Neither Nick nor the sheriff knew what Carlin's last laugh was and neither one cared. Neither one cared what Carlin had against lawyers that was driving him to kill them. They were just relieved they finally had him in custody.

By now, Heath was coming back, leading his and Carlin's horses. "You all right?" Nick asked him.

Heath nodded. "A whole lot better than I was a few hours ago."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Three weeks later, Steve Carlin was tried on several counts of premeditated murder and several counts of malicious wounding. Because of the shortage of lawyers, and the fact that so many who were still alive were victims of the accused, a prosecutor had been brought in from another town to handle the case. Carlin could not afford a lawyer, but a volunteer lawyer from out of town was found to handle his defense. Jarrod knew the defense lawyer and was ready for the cross examination he got when he took the stand. In only a few minutes he was on, off and dismissed, his testimony virtually unchallenged.

Phil Archer, recovered enough to go home now, came for the whole trial even though his testimony was very brief. Jarrod kept watching Archer watching Carlin. He knew that while Archer was physically doing well, he was still one angry victim.

Heath was the only other Barkley who came to the trial. He watched as his brother testified, as the attorneys who had survived Carlin's attacks testified, and as his friend Turner Powers testified. Turner was still weak from the wound he'd suffered, but he held it together just fine on direct and on cross-examination. When he was finished, the judge dismissed him, and Heath and Jarrod took him back out of the courthouse.

Heath had picked Turner up at the ranch where he worked in one of the Barkley buggies, and he and Jarrod helped him back up into the buggy. "Turner," Jarrod said and offered his hand. "I owe you my life, and I owe you a lot of thanks for testifying."

Turner took the lawyer's hand, smiling his usual smile. "I'm glad you're okay, Jarrod. Maybe we can forget all this soon."

Jarrod shook his head. "I won't forget you got hurt because of me."

It was Turner's turn to shake his head. "I just got in the way, Jarrod."

Jarrod smiled. "I won't forget it. You take care of yourself and get good and well fast."

Turner nodded.

Heath drove away and took Turner directly home. "You did a real good job in there, Turner," Heath told him.

"It wasn't hard," Turner said. "I almost got the feeling his own lawyer didn't want to see Carlin get off."

"Well, I don't know about that," Heath said. "Lawyers hate to lose, you know."

"Is Jarrod doing all right?"

"Jarrod? Yeah, he's fine. Still mad about all the damage Carlin did, but he's fine."

"He's been out to see me twice a week since I got hurt. He feels bad because I got shot instead of him."

"That's our Jarrod for you."

"And you feel bad about it too, don't you?"

Heath only had to think about it for a moment. "I'd hate to have lost my brother that day, but I'd hate to have lost you, too. You're a good man, Turner. We need more good men like you."

They were quiet again for a few moments before Turner said, "That Archer is kind of a weird bird though, isn't he?"

Heath laughed. Archer had given his testimony while glaring hard at Carlin every moment. The prosecutor even got between him and Carlin at one point, to keep it from happening, to keep the jury from noticing. "Archer marches to his own drummer," Heath said. "He's mad at the world, for some reason. Carlin got the worst of it today, but then he earned it."

"You think Carlin's gonna hang, Heath?" Turner asked.

"I think he might," Heath said.

"I wonder why he did it."

"He hasn't said. Maybe it doesn't matter much, anyway."

"If it might save him from a rope, you think he'd say something."

Heath sighed. "I don't think much on such things, Turner. If Carlin wants anybody to know why he did it, he'll say so. If he don't, he won't."

Before long, they were at the ranch where Turner worked and Heath was helping Turner out of the buggy. "I'll be back to work in a week or so, Heath," Turner said.

"That's good to hear," Heath said.

"Poker Friday night?"

Heath smiled. Turner hadn't been up to poker night since he got shot. "I'm ready to take your money whenever you're ready to lose it, Turner."

Turner grinned one of his big grins and slapped Heath on the arm. "I'm having a run of good luck, Heath. You best be prepared to pay me."

XXXXXX

Poker Friday night found all three Barkley brothers and Turner Powers at the table in Harry's saloon. No one was trying to let Turner win, but he was winning anyway. After Turner took his fourth pot in a row, Nick leaned back in his chair and stretched. Heath began to shuffle for his deal, and Jarrod closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Ever heard of Karma?" Jarrod asked.

"Does she work here?" Nick asked.

"Karma is when the universe brings you what you deserve," Jarrod said. "I think our friend Turner here has Karma working for him, for saving my bacon and testifying at the trial."

"So, Karma is kind of like luck," Nick said.

"Except you don't always get luck when you deserve it," Turner said. "Sounds like Karma is more reliable."

"By the way," Jarrod said, "I found out today why Steve Carlin got life in prison instead of a rope."

"Why?" Nick asked, growling. He didn't like the sentence Carlin got when he heard about it.

"Carlin told the court," Jarrod continued, "about a doctor who had helped him get that shoe he wears to even his legs out. Before that doctor, his hip hurt all the time and people looked at him like he was a medicine show freak. Carlin thought the world of that doctor, but after he helped him, some lawyer sued the doctor claiming the doctor had allowed his client's mother to die. Raked the doctor over the coals, the doctor's health failed, and and about a month ago, he died. Carlin turned on lawyers, all lawyers."

"And that's what got him out of hanging?" Heath asked.

"Yeah, that was it," Jarrod said.

"Karma," Turner said.

Nick looked at him like he was nuts. "Carlin killed three lawyers and shot two others, AND you, by the way."

"But maybe he didn't deserve hanging," Turner said with a shrug as Heath dealt. "Maybe the jury understood how he felt. Karma."

Nick picked up his cards. "These aren't Karma."

"I see Turner's point," Heath said as Turner opened. "I'm not sure life in Quentin is preferable to hanging, but I suppose Carlin did or he wouldn't have told the court what he told them. Maybe the sentence he got was Karma."

"Whatever it was, I'm glad he's gone," Nick said. "Maybe that's Karma for the rest of us."

"Maybe," Turner said.

Jarrod folded his hand. "Well, I'm not getting either Karma or luck tonight."

Nick folded, too, saying, "If I'm getting Karma, I'd better change my way of living."

Heath and Turner played out the hand, until Heath quit raising Turner and called his last raise. When Turner showed his cards, Heath laid his hand down with a groan.

As he collected the pot again, Turner grinned. "I think I like Karma."

The End


End file.
